


Age of Consent

by WhiskeyAndStout



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22755979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyAndStout/pseuds/WhiskeyAndStout
Summary: Can love bloom on the battlefield?Also, middle aged men with the emotional maturity of teenagers.
Relationships: Big Boss/Ocelot
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Age of Consent

"Are you… are you serious? Kid, you're way too young for me."

The words sat in the younger man's heart like lead. Not in the sense that it broke his heart, but that of course the only older man he had ever given a damn about didn't see him like that, unlike the countless others he had been forced to accomodate because of rank or mission.  
It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"You're probably younger than anyone that's ever looked my way," Ocelot hissed, eyes narrowed and trying to make his point clear without giving up any of his pride. His red gloved hands gripped his hips haughtily.   
Snake's brows knitted slightly, and he paused to stare back at the blond thoughtfully.

"I'm serious. John," Ocelot said with a tone more confident than he felt, "ever since that time back in Tselinoyarsk, I--"  
"You were even younger, then. Barely even legal," Snake growled, making a slightly offended expression. "I don't know what you take me for."

"I don't---take you for anything! I was legal then and I'm legal now, what does it even matter?"

Ocelot's spurs clinked as he approached Snake closer, and grabbed his wrist.  
"Look, kid," Snake said around his cigar, his voice gentle but on edge and his eye cautious, "you wouldn't even know what to do with a man like me."  
Face flushed with anger, Ocelot shoved him. Snake looked unperturbed.  
"You asshole. Someone like you doesn't get to say that to someone like me."  
"Yeah, and why's that?"  
"You have no idea how much experience I have."  
"Always so cocky, huh," Snake grumbled, but seemed slightly disturbed.  
"I'd make you beg for more," Ocelot threatened, stepping closer, his voice still angry and with something to prove.  
It was almost endearing, but nothing more. Snake put a hand on his shoulder.  
"The answer is no. Take it with some grace, like an adult."  
The wind taken out of his sails, and with an ego bruised but not broken, Ocelot sniffed and spun on his heel, trudging away in defeat.

The memory clung to Revolver Ocelot's pride like a scar, and it hurt him longer than he'd ever care to admit.   
Even when he met up with Snake, now Big Boss, decades later, there was still a part of him that felt that same sting.

It was 1984, and a middle aged Ocelot sat on the corner of the desk of Big Boss' office at his secret base, long legs crossed and his shirt unbuttoned at the top under his red scarf. Sure, he had aged, but the need to impress Snake was an eternal thing, something that had merged with his very identity.  
John was John, as usual. Dense, unobservant, annoyingly respectful of boundaries.  
After going through a few briefings of missions he had planned for Venom, sifting through documents and choosing to look down at them instead of the hungry jungle cat peering down at him, Big Boss eventually ran out of things to say and chanced a look up into the sharp, pale face in front of him.  
But there was a look there. Snake licked his lips nervously, his eye traveling along Ocelot's body briefly. Professionally trained in all sorts of micro-expressions, the torture aficionado caught it without even looking for it.  
"Well, John," he drawled casually, rubbing his hands over his thighs to wipe off some of the clammy sweat that had built up, "it's been nice watching you try to ignore the shit out of me while talking right at me for an hour, but why don't we just cut to the chase?"  
"What do you mean?" Snake asked, his wavering voice absolutely betraying that he knew exactly what the other man was talking about. Ocelot dropped down from the desk with some flourish and stalked over to Big Boss, boots still clinking with spurs after all this time. Ocelot heard him curse under his breath, and his lips twisted into a smirk.  
"It sure has been a damn long time, John," he murmured, standing right in front of the seated Snake and looking down at him, his silver hair shining in the dim light.  
Before he could think of trying to get away, Ocelot lowered himself onto one of Big Boss' knees and put his red gloved hands on the backrest of the chair on either side of the one-eyed man's head. Snake swallowed loudly, sitting upright and alert.  
"Do you remember the last time we really spoke together? Alone?"  
Ocelot's eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated with desire. Even Snake couldn't pretend to be dense enough not to understand.  
"I remember. You were still a kid."  
The words opened a fresh new slice, raw and irritating, in Ocelot's ego. Jaw clenching, he leaned in closer to John, who leaned further back.   
"Yeah. Am I old enough for you now, boss?"  
Ocelot moved to straddle Snake on the chair, bearing down on him, uncomfortably close. He could feel Snake tense up under him, his breath shallow. Like this, it occurred to Ocelot that he was now taller than his old hero. It made him feel powerful.  
"You're…" Big Boss seemed to grasp for words, gears turning in his head silently, before an amused smile creased his scarred face, "No, still a kid."  
Ocelot could slap him. But instead he growled and captured Big Boss' mouth in a forceful kiss, his tongue pushing inside of the other man's mouth. He could feel a laugh vibrating into his needy mouth as Big Boss finally reciprocated, wrapping an arm around his waist and cupping Ocelot's cheek with his other hand, kissing back in the kind of messy, breathy way a teenager does.  
Ocelot reveled in the feeling of finally having something returned after decades of yearning, and also of the thrill of a final success after a long, tiring hunt. He broke away from the kiss, gasping for air, and took off his gloves and put them on the desk. Snake took them in his own immediately, and pressed a few soft kisses to his knuckles. Ocelot didn't even think he was capable of blushing anymore, but here he was.  
"I'm... sorry I kept you waiting so long," Big Boss murmured afterward, holding one of Ocelot's hands to his scruffy cheek.   
The younger man didn't know what to say, his cold and steely heart thudding in his ears loudly. This wasn't going where he had thought it would. He was starting to feel out of control of the situation. A strange new territory.  
"Adam," Snake whispered, pressing a kiss into his sharp cheekbone, "you're--you've become so damn handsome."   
It felt strange to Ocelot. So gentle. Almost like he was still treating him like a child, even in affection like this.   
"Boss," was all the younger man could get out, his emotions clogging his throat. He leant in for another kiss, the desperation and neediness taking over his mind and actions. It almost felt to him like Big Boss was kissing back with the same kind of fevered edge, and he didn't know if he liked the fluttering, tingling feeling roiling his gut.   
The straining heat of his erection was a welcome relief of familiarity, and he clung to the notion by rocking his hips into Snake's. Big Boss' breath hitched and he groaned softly into Ocelot's mouth, his hand ghosting over the younger man's ass for a moment.  
And then he was pulled up, and they were standing there, panting and holding hands. It was awkward.  
"Do you love me?"   
The question shocked Ocelot into momentary silence, even his heated breaths quieting down. Love?  
It wasn't that the thought had never occurred to him before, but it was never something that he'd let himself mull over, or care about. His goal had never been love; it had never been the catalyst to all of this. The deep respect that had bloomed in Ocelot's heart on that day Snake had told him he was "pretty good" had been what drove his need to be around the other man, to live up to that compliment and grow past it, to foster the potential that someone like Snake had seen in him. And then came the lust, that heady coiling poison that had filled his young mind from seeing Snake tortured beyond shame in Volgin's dungeon.   
But, love?   
"Do you… love me?" Ocelot breathed, confusion clear in his voice and on his face, as if the thought of love being an option was absolutely alien to him.  
Big Boss didn't reply, but instead pulled him into those strong arms again.   
Ocelot felt like a predator that had finally captured its prey, only to have no idea what to do with the corpse now that it lay there before him.   
He felt like he was 20 again, standing before Snake and boldly asking him for a kiss after the Snake Eater mission, as if he had any idea what he was doing or feeling. Butterflies filling his stomach and fluttering so hard he felt sick.  
But this time John actually--he said he was--  
Adam let out a frustrated sigh and pulled away from Big Boss, and looked into his beautiful blue eye. Through the years, Snake had only gotten more ruggedly handsome, more lined and scarred, more muscular, more heroic. It was enough to make Ocelot's mouth go dry.  
"Do I need to love you?" He finally asked, his voice deep and rough with conflicting emotions.  
Snake grunted out a laugh, his eye growing a little sadder, and stroked Ocelot's silvery scruffy cheek.  
"What do you take me for," he murmured, echoing his words from last time, before continuing, "you think I'm a floozy who'll just go after any pretty thing who hops in his lap?"  
An unfamiliar feeling of shame filled the younger man whose grey eyes still stared at the face of his old crush, confused and willing his heart to give him an answer.

A knock at the door had Snake taking his hand back from Ocelot's cheek, which still tingled afterwards. Ocelot rubbed at it roughly, willing the feeling to go away.  
"Big Boss, sir, Venom has returned to mother base. Should I give you the new report?"  
"Um, yeah, come in."  
As soon as the officer came in, Ocelot slinked out without another word.

The next few times they would meet, always for business reasons, they didn't even have enough time to feel awkward about the last encounter. If anyone knew how to compartmentalize feelings, it was the two of them, and there were far more urgent matters to take care of and to discuss.   
Ocelot was still trying to wrap his head around what Snake had said, what he seemed to be asking for, but he had no idea if it was something he could actually give him. 

During a rendezvous in Africa, Revolver "Shalashaska" Ocelot and Big Boss were driving out to an encampment to infiltrate and retrieve some blueprints and documents while Venom was out dealing with Skull Face. The weather was sweltering, as usual, and Ocelot found the heat unbearable. His usually low buttoned shirt was all the way open, and the rest of his shirt already felt almost soaked through with sweat. He felt gross, and besides the heat, Big Boss was also an irritating distraction. And of course he felt fine in his long-sleeved dark green compression shirt.  
"It's merino wool, breathes like you're wearing nothing."  
"Whatever, John," Ocelot sighed, already in a bad mood and the mission hadn't even started yet. He hated being in this area. At least in Afghanistan, the heat was dry.   
"Want a coke?" Snake asked, popping open a bottle and taking a gulp of it before offering it to Ocelot.  
In the back of his mind, he heard "indirect kiss" and almost laughed at himself. Instead he just mumbled a "yeah, sure," and drank some of the refreshing sweet fizzy liquid. It'd do nothing to hydrate him, but at least it was cold.  
Big Boss seemed weirdly satisfied about their shared drink and occupied himself flipping through channels on the radio, finally finding some synthpop--was it Ultravox?--and hummed along with it.  
"What're you in such a good mood about?"  
Snake grunted a laugh and took his coke back to finish it.  
"Some people aren't always in bad moods," he smirked and put the empty bottle in the back seat.   
It always amazed Ocelot that no matter how much he had gone through, John was still John. Still weird, still cheeky, still awkward about anything too personal. Still so damned cool.  
"Well, we're almost there. Should be mostly empty now that most of Skull's men are elsewhere. Can't be too careful, though. Well, you know the drill, right?"  
"Mmhm. Hey, pull over here."  
"Um? Why? You gotta take a leak?"  
"Just got something distracting me, don't want it to fuck up the mission."  
"Huh. Well, fine," Ocelot huffed, annoyed at prolonging this mission any longer. It wasn't exactly a mission they could have sent grunts out to do--the stakes were too high--but surely some S or A ranks could have gotten this done, right?  
Ocelot pulled over near a shallow overhang besides part of the beginning of a jungle area. There was some shade here from both the trees and the overhang, and Ocelot found himself drawn to the cooler section immediately, fanning himself with his loose collar.   
"Well, get going on whatever you're doing, it's fucking hot out here."  
"That was sorta the problem," Snake laughed, his voice still weirdly bubbly, as he walked over to Ocelot and stood in front of him looking somewhat smug.  
"What's… what're you looking at?"  
Before he could even think to push him away, Snake laid his hands on Ocelot's waist, and slid them up his bare chest slowly. He could feel the callouses on his hands, and goddamn if they weren't doing something to him. Ocelot's stomach flopped and he tried to back away before remembering he was leaning against the rock wall.  
"H-hey there," he stammered, but Snake just kept feeling over his sweaty, smooth skin, and leaned in to kiss him. It was another desperate, inexperienced kiss like last time, tongue and teeth everywhere. He tasted like coke and cigars. So damn American. Ocelot wondered if he was going to faint under all the heat, on the outside and growing inside of him like a wildfire.  
He couldn't help the moan that escaped his mouth when Big Boss leant over to suck on his neck.  
"Jesus, John. What's gotten into you?"   
"Your open shirt was too distracting," he grumbled, voice low and gravelly. He'd stopped, then, and was just holding Ocelot and breathing hard into his neck.  
"Uh. I'm sorry?" Ocelot offered, somewhat sad that he'd stopped but knowing they really needed to get going.  
"Have you… have you put any thought into, you know… I mean I didn't really want to bring it up again, but I just, I don't know, I feel like I know but I'm not sure and I know it's weird to do something like this if I'm not sure, but--"  
"John, what the hell are you trying to say?" Ocelot growled, his frustration coming back as Snake's added body heat was cancelling out the relief of the shade.  
"You know, last time!" He sighed, seeming annoyed that the other man couldn't just read his mind.  
"Are you talking about the last time we... Oh."  
A streak of anxiety went through Ocelot's spine and he suddenly wanted to be anywhere else but here, but this close to Big Boss, even if it meant being back in the sun.  
"Listen, Adam," Snake sighed, as if talking was so much more tiring than even doing a mission, "I'm not really good at these kinds of things."  
Ocelot laughed, but stopped at the hurt look in Snake's eye, and pulled him into a sweaty hug. Ugh, he couldn't wait to get back into the sweet AC of his Mother Base office.  
"I'm... not good at this… whatever this is, either," Ocelot admitted, and pulled away to look into his face.  
He took a deep breath and let it go slowly.  
"I don't even know why you had to ask this. But. Of course I love you, John. I've loved you for a really long time."  
It was astounding to him how hard it was to admit it, how much his voice shook. It seemed so ridiculous to him, who wouldn't even think twice about killing a man in cold blood, that just a confession of feelings like this would have him shaking in his spurred boots. He hated feeling this vulnerable.   
A smile broke across Big Boss' scarred face, and he took Ocelot's arms to pull him a little closer. For a brief moment, he was concerned his hero really was about to laugh in his face and leave him there.  
"That's... Yeah, I… love you, too," Snake fumbled with his words awkwardly, and decided to stop while he was ahead and instead let his mouth do another kind of talking.   
Ocelot couldn't believe what he'd heard as he was pushed back against the rock wall, Snake's tongue in his mouth again, this time kissing him far more delicately but with saliva still running down their mouths. Rough hands were groping his bare chest again, and then smoothing along his sweaty back.  
Ocelot hung onto him for dear life, his legs shaking under him like a schoolgirl and breaths coming out ragged.  
"The… the mission, John, we still have to--ah--," Ocelot moaned, trying to find wherever Snake had thrown his brain and dust it off enough to remember why they were there, as the man was again sucking and licking at his throat under his scarf.   
"Oh sweet Jesus," Ocelot groaned and then roughly pushed Big Boss off of him, trying to catch his breath, flushed and with pants awkwardly tented.  
"The goddamn mission, John," he yelled this time as Big Boss seemed a little sad at being pushed away.  
"I know, I know," the older man sighed and put a hand through his hair, looking Ocelot up and down as if wondering if he should just take him there, mission be damned.  
"You're just… really hot."  
Ocelot laughed, slightly more comfortable in this territory. He fixed his scarf, adjusted his erection in his pants, and said in a husky voice, "well, I'll let you see more later, if you'd like. It'll be your prize for actually getting this done in a timely manner."  
"Deal," Snake grinned, and was already running back to the vehicle.   
Ocelot rolled his eyes, but a smile was still stuck to his face. His heart was full of happiness and anxiety, and even when starting up the Jeep, his hands were still shaking.


End file.
